Akili ni nywele, kila mtu ana zake

I think that this street is called 'Oliver Avenue', and Henry and I decided to stop and take this photograph to share with the world of a typical suburban street here on Hobart's eastern shore. It's always a nice walk to Lindisfarne Village to pick up bread, milk, veggies and our meat (and tofu), as well as plenty of treats for Ezra and Jen. Nice and quiet, with little more than the sounds of birds tweeting and lazy cats sleeping in the sun in people's front yards.

I have gone with a Swahili proverb for my title today. It is a good one. See if you can figure it out.

Comments

angie said…

congratulations on your new baby. good choice on the name ezra, beautiful name.

5 August 2008 at 14:53

Anonymous said…

this street with the hill in the background is very similar to my area:)

5 August 2008 at 16:50

USelaine said…

All I can say is, I know some people with a son named Akili. That's all I got. I'll look forward to the explanation... (lots of ellipses today)

5 August 2008 at 17:46

Julie said…

Where does that leave someone like Peter Garrett?

5 August 2008 at 18:07

Nathalie H.D. said…

Just back from holidays, congratulations on the birth of Ezra. Beautiful name. I hope mother and baby are doing well.

Now for that Swahili proverb. Oh dear, what can I come up with?

The little birds sing, the caravan passes?

5 August 2008 at 19:23

Kris McCracken said…

I think that Julie might know the answer...

I will post the translation with tomorrow's photo.

5 August 2008 at 20:16

Marie Reed said…

How delightful to see your strapping rosy boys on the sidebar... I have a John Henry.. Henry is such a classic bruiser of a name!

5 August 2008 at 20:32

Priyanka Khot said…

This comment has been removed by the author.

5 August 2008 at 20:58

Priyanka Khot said…

My trusted friend Wiki said

Akili ni nywele, kila mtu ana zake means:
# Idiomatic Translation: Intelligence is like hair, everyone has their own type.
# Literal Meaning: The types of intelligence amongst the minds of humanity are as varied as the types of hair.

Even if the translation is not correct, i still feel the meanings i found out are something to think about.

5 August 2008 at 21:01

Anonymous said…

Lindisfarne Gospels? Are they housed around you there somewhere? The most famous or among the most famous richly decorated gospels. This is also a nice photograph.

Abraham Lincoln
—Brookville, Ohio

5 August 2008 at 22:15

sonia a. mascaro said…

This place has a peaceful atmosphere...very quiet and calm.

About the proverb, I am looking forward to know the translation...

6 August 2008 at 00:22

Bill said…

I can almost hear the birds!

6 August 2008 at 01:34

freefalling said…

Must have been one of those days yesterday.
A happy, good to be alive kinda day.
I took a photo like this one, too.

6 August 2008 at 09:00

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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